


Whipped Cream

by MewmewRAWR



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, One-Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-27 21:57:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/666921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MewmewRAWR/pseuds/MewmewRAWR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer isn’t all that fond of whipped cream, but after watching Dean, he thinks he may have found something he’d really enjoy it with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whipped Cream

Dean gave a little hum as he set his fork down on his—now empty, plate and reached over, invading the devil’s personal space to dip his index and middle fingers into the pile of whipped cream that Lucifer had scrapped off the top of his pie, and cast aside.

“ _Dude_ , why do you  _always_  do this..?” He shot the fallen angel a questioning look.

Lucifer gave a nonchalant shrug. “I don’t like it.”

“I don’t understand how you can  _not_  like this stuff, it’s  _so_  good!”

Another shrug as the devil turned to gaze at the smaller blond. “Does it matter? Me not liking it means more for you, right?”

“Heh…guess so…” The hunter grinned, withdrawing his hand and bringing the two whipped cream coated fingers to his mouth and sucking on them. He raised an eyebrow when he caught a glimpse of the look the fallen angel was giving him.

“What..?” He managed to mumble around his fingers.

Lucifer glanced from the remaining topping, back to the hunter—just as his fingers slipped from his mouth with a loud, wet pop.

“ _What_?” The Winchester repeated, not quite sure he liked the looks he was receiving from the angel.

“I think there’s something I’d like whipped cream on after all…”

“Yeah…? What’s that?”

A lewd smile crept across the devil’s face as he reached for the can of whipped topping with one hand, and grabbed Dean’s hand with the other—ignoring the slight stickiness of it, and stood up, dragging the mildly confused—but unresistant, hunter towards the bedroom.

“ _You_.”


End file.
